


fireflies

by OnyxSphinx



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), uprising whomst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: “Hey,” Newton says, poking his head in. “Uh. Hey,” he says again, “can I come in—? No, wait, you already said I could—uh.” He gives an awkward smile and comes in. “Um. Weird question, but can I get in bed with you? Just—”“Yes,” Hermann says.(OR: post-Pitfall cuddling courtesy of Drift-induced need for physical closeness)
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "If you're still accepting prompts will you please like this one? It reminds me of Newt: I think I’ve got fireflies where my caution should be."

The room’s dark when he wakes up, warm and well-rested for the first time since…since he can remember, actually. His bed’s still uncomfortable, and his leg is starting to ache, but the mental load that’s been there for—years is gone.

He lets out a sigh; staring at the ceiling.

The bed is small, and he’s alone in it. It feels oddly empty, now, to be alone—after the…the Drift. For that one moment, with Newt in his head, he felt…complete. Seen. Not alone; not lonely anymore.

The night before is a bit of a blur, frankly—he’d still been running mostly on adrenaline and fear, and he remembers, distinctly, hitting his hip a few times as they ran, made clumsy by it. Other than that, though…not much after they Drifted.

Speaking of; he and Newton will need to…discuss it. Preferably soon, given that Hermann feels like he might just throw up if the physical distance between them is too much.

As if on queue, there’s a knock on his door; Newton, he knows; he can feel it. “Come in,” he calls, and then winces at the dryness of his voice.

“Hey,” Newton says, poking his head in. “Uh. Hey,” he says again, “can I come in—? No, wait, you already said I could—uh.” He gives an awkward smile and comes in. “Um. Weird question, but can I get in bed with you? Just—”

“Yes,” Hermann says.

“—the Drift, and, wait, did you say yes?”

He stops and stares at Hermann, eyes wide. “Yes,” Hermann says, and then: “Please. If you—if you’d like, I mean, that is—er—” and then he cuts himself off, gaze slipping down to where he’s begun nervously playing with the fabric of the sheets.

Newton strides over and gets into the bed with him. They stare at each other silently before Hermann awkwardly breaks eye-contact and clears his throat. “Did you, er, sleep well?” It sounds horrifically awkward, and he winces a bit at it, and opens his mouth to apologise, and then stops, because it seems like that will only make it more awkward.

The other nods. “Yeah. Better than I have in…a long time. It was…good. I feel good.”

“Good,” says Hermann, and feels like somehow he’s exposing himself more than he ever has.

Newton shifts; slides further beneath the covers. “God,” he says, “your bed’s so warm. It’s kinda weird because you have, like, ice for hands and feet. You’re cold, man, like, insanely cold, and not just physically but also kind of emotionally? because I’m pretty sure that until, like, last night I didn’t know a ton about you but weirdly I feel like…maybe I knew you the best? Or—wait, no, ignore that, you’re not cold—well, you are, physically, but not, like, emotionally? You just. Talk different? I guess. Not like, to say—”

He’s rambling, Hermann can tell; working himself up into an anxious flurry, and Hermann can’t think of what to do besides reach out and place his hand on Newton’s shoulder and say, softly, “Newton, take a breath.”

He does; gaspingly, cutting off his train off thought, and he’s shaking, suddenly, beneath Hermann’s grasp, and Hermann’s afraid he’s crying, but he’s not; he’s…jittering? Nervous, Hermann remembers. It’s a nervous tic of his, and he’s obviously nervous right now.

“Sorry,” he says, finally, after a moment, the words half-muffled. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright,” Hermann says. “Just—breathe, Newton. I’m not—not offended, don’t worry.”

The other takes another deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Um. Can you…can you hold me?”

“Of course,” Hermann murmurs, and shifts closer to him, wrapping himself around the biologist’s smaller frame. “I…” he starts, before feeling foolish, and then remembers what they’ve been through together, and continues. “If you hadn’t come to me, I think I’d have come to you. I…miss you.”

“I’m right here?” Newton says, but it pitches up at the end, into a question.

Hermann hums. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, you are. Thank you.”

They lay there, Newton in his embrace, for a few moments, silently, and then Newton says, the words seeming to tumble forward as if finally unrestrained, “Hermann, I love you.”

Hermann blinks.

“You don’t need to say it back,” Newt assures. “I just—the Drift, and—and everything, and, god, Hermann, right now? I think I’ve got fireflies where my caution should be, and they’re all lighting up at the—the thought of you, and I know that we haven’t talked about it, but I. I just wanted to say that…that I. Love you. A—a lot.”

“I…” Hermann swallows, thickly. Tries to form the words. Can’t. “I’m sorry,” he says, and his shoulders tense, and he wishes he could—could, could curl in on himself, but, “I can't—I do, but I can't—”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” Newton murmurs. “I know I kind of sprung it on you, and you're—you’re not the best with emotion. It’s okay. It’s…it’s okay, Hermann. I understand.”

Hermann lets out a shaky sigh. “A—alright,” he says. “I—thank you, Newton. For. For understanding.”

“Yeah, of course,” Newton nods. “Now, uh, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a nap, please, so stop talking.”

“Hah,” Hermann says, flatly, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips—relief. “Alright,” he says. “I suppose I could sleep a bit more as well.”

“Great,” Newton grins. “Sleepy cuddles it is, then. Sweet.”

“Mm,” Hermann murmurs, letting his eyes slip shut, and curls slightly closer; tries to hide the yawn that cracks his jaw, and huffs at Newton’s subsequent laughter. “Goodnight, Newton,” he says, pointedly.

“Not night,” Newton points out, and then: “G'night, Herms." 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
